Just a Girl

She was just a girl
A tad more timid
Than the other girls
Who acted cynic
Towards her world
She saw very vivid

All the things she drew in her book
While they laughed at the way she looked

And she wrote
Novels about creatures
Filled with anecdotes
Of all their features
That she could emote
When she was dreaming

And she wrote them a life
Full of love and full of strife

And on a Monday
She disappeared
Left a note
To those who called her weird
And no one knows where she went
Her final days remain unspent

Now she's in a place
Filled with all she created
And they speak with disgrace
Of her escapement
Her books are in place
Gone without a statement

And somewhere, her body remains
In a world where she was called insane